The Irish standard., 1887-11-12

among the nettles, under fallen frag-
ment Of the old wall.
By crossing field Brian came up
with the police, who were in the act Of
placing the dead body in a cart pro
cured at the next farm house.
How did this occurY' he inquired of
the constable.
'Accidently, sir
tWhat! do you say it was an acci-
dent?' exclaimed Brian, while surprise
and pleasure struggled with incredulity
in his looks.
we were present, SIR said the con-
stable, mo one is to blame
Brian leaped upon a wall, and cast a
searching look around. He returned
to the church-yard and explored every
nook. He made inquiries at the house
adjoining, but could get DO trace of the
objects OF his search.
Let us relate what took place In the
church yard during Brian g stroll to the
crom]ech.
Connor Shea-for it was his groan
that interrupted the poor maniac in her
wanderings- stood with his forehead
against the wall, trying to summon up
courage to accost her. He heard the
sound of voices outside, aud looking
through the slit in the wall, saw man
with spade and shovel on his should
OF, opening the church-yard gate. A
horseman, accompanied by five police
men, then entered. The police ap-
preached the poor maniac, and began
to speak kindly to her; but she clung
with terrified look to one Of the head
stones. Evidently distressed at the
task imposed on them, they looked to-
ward the man on horseback, who be-
gan to gestulate violently, and to utter
inarticulate sounds. Connor' Shea
looked more closely at him now, but
was barely able to recognize his for
mer landlord-the author Of all his
misery-so frightful}y was he altered.
He had but partially recovered from all
attack of paralysis, which had left him
speechless, His jaw fell down upon
chest, the mouth open. and the tongue
lolling over the under lip, while the
SLAYER trickled down his neglected
beard and oyer dirty napkin which
was tied under his chin, The face
was that OF a corpse, save that the
red, CLASSY eyes glazed hideously in
the midst of it. He had come with
the police TO have Sally Cnvanagh
arrested as dangerous lunatic.'
The man with the spade and shovel
was brought to level the mounds which
Fthe poor woman supposed to be the
graves OF her children. Her melan-
cholY history was attracting so much
interest thai an English tourist, who
had been the guest Of poor Sally's
friend, Parson Stephens, had taken a
note of it. Mr.. Oliver Grlndem re-
solved to put a stop TO this. He gesti
culated to the police, who reluctantly
dragged the poor woman from the head
stones. She struggled violently, and
seeing nothing else to catch hold of,
seized the magistrates bride rein.
He began to strike her with the butt
end OF his whip. The horse backed to
within yard Of the slit in the wall,
and when Connor Shea heard the hard
buckhorn knock sharply upon the flesh
less knuckles of his wife, he ground
his teeth i'll rage. and pulling a revol-
yer from his breast, thrust it through
the slit; the muzzle was within three
feet of the monsters heart. But at
this moment he changed his mode of
assault, and struck his victim in the
face with the lash of the whip. The
hard whipcord entered one of her eyes,
and with a scream she let go the rein.
The horse reared, and before Connor
Shea could pull the trigger. the brutal
tyrant fell heavily to the ground-his
head striking against the stone slab
which Sally Cavanagh had erected to
mark what she imagined to be the
grave of her youngest little boy.
The poor maniac ran screaming into
the ruin, and with bursting heart
Connor clasped her to his breast.
:Oh save me-save me-: she cried, in
an imp]oring voice.
I'LL save you; yes, I'll save you.
But oh! Sally, don'tyou know me?'
He comes down every night when
the stars do be shinin',' she whispered,
sand now they want to take me away
'Oh Sally look up-look up and say
you know me, he sobbed. And as he
raised her face from his bosom, he
kissed her wan cheek passionately.
They're Dead she murmured, all
dead. Poor Moran, an Corney, an
Tommy, an Mickey, and little Willie
with the blue eyes-an' all
.But don't you remember me, Sally
your own husband? Thry, Sally, and
remember ould times
But there was no meaning in her
smile.
x,My God! my God!' cried the dis
tracted man, what did I ever do to de-